ar, an' we kin trail 'em no farther."

"Then what can we do?" fluttered the discomfited boy.

"Northin' but wait fer daylight."

Now on the still air very faintly was heard a distant tone of music; a
sweet whistle, at first low, rising and falling, and then gradually
becoming more distinct. It came nearer and nearer till it seemed to fill
the air all about, and then, looking upward, they saw dark forms
flitting between them and the stars.

The wild ducks were flying.

The musical note passed on, receded, grew fainter and fainter, till, at
last, it died out in the distance.

From the lake came a far-off trumpet call, and then another--the mellow
note of the wild geese.

The world was awakening; the day was near.

The stars were growing paler now. In the eastern sky was a bit of gray,
which slowly broadened, pushing upward and blotting out the stars.

Where all before was dark, the morning twilight began to show the black
forms of things.

The outlines of tree trunks could be seen, and they seemed to stand like
ghosts, reaching out shadowy arms, as if feeling their way through the
dimness.

The birds which through the long night had slept in the low bushes were
beginning to chirp and flutter.

All at once, Old Rocks started and clutched Frank's arm.

"Listen!" he whispered.

The sound of footsteps told them some one was approaching.

"Back!" whispered the guide, leading the way. "We must see who ther
critter is, an' he musn't see us."

Hastily they drew into the deep shadows, holding their rifles ready for
use in case they should need them.

Nearer and nearer came the footsteps, and then the dark figure of a man
appeared, advancing through the dusky darkness.

The man was alone, and he halted on the shore of the lake, within a
short distance of the crouching man and boy. They saw him bow his head
on his breast and stand there in silence.

Several minutes passed. At last, the unknown lifted his head, stretched
out his arms, and uttered a long, mournful cry that seemed to come from
a breaking heart.

Old Rocks rose and glided swiftly and silently toward the stranger, who
did not hear him approach. The guide's hand dropped on the man's
shoulder, and he said:

"Hello, Hermit. Whatever be yer doin' hyar?"

The strange man turned, and Frank saw that it was indeed the Hermit of
the Yellowstone.

"Doing?" he said, hoarsely. "I am seeking rest--seeking rest! I'll never
find it till I rest in the grav